The Long Night
by BakaMattSu
Summary: Faust is forced to evaluate his officers after he receives a report of his disliking...


The conference room was dark, but that was how Faust liked it. Far from the prying eyes of both the public and his ill fitted soldiers he felt more at home. Here, if it was necessary for him to be bothered, soldiers seemed to take on a more subservient look. Perhaps it was due to his domineering presence, but Faust made it a personal point not to give too much credit to himself. He had known far too many men in his original life on Earth that had too much faith in their own abilities. He knew that not a single one of those men still lived.  
This room, in the heart of Gartlant, at the seat of power, was designed for discussion amongst multiple men. It had never been used for this purpose, however. Instead it remained Faust's hideaway. It became his fortress of solitude when he needed to be alone. Sitting at the head of a long empty table, he could pore over his agendas in peace.  
  
That was exactly what he was doing at this moment, one medium-sized stack of similar pages resting nearby. They were all stacked in perfect order, as was Faust's command. To show who was in command, he had to maintain a sense of control, and as such, almost every detail in Gartlant was arranged to his tastes. It was going to be a long night.  
  
He huffed now, staring at yet another report of attempted uprising. These were becoming more frequent these days, the residents of the country refusing their duty to fight in the war. Their moment was at hand, but they chose to live without his support, half-dead on the streets as an alternative to the glory that awaited them in the war. It was their incompetence, as he saw it, not to partake in his excellent dream. He took his quill and with swift, even strokes signed the order to terminate them.  
  
The next folder in line was a familiar one, but one he had been waiting for some time to see. The outside was sealed by a simple slip of paper bearing the crest of Gartlant, and then the coded serial number for its contents. Faust didn't have to open it to know what was inside. He recognized Dr. Hess's reports as they were presented in the same regular form as this. The mysterious man had managed to do what was previously thought impossible, developing a machine not only impervious to the raging plasma of Terra II, but equally as impressive, one that actually fed from that powerful, raw energy.  
  
Gingerly slipping the small piece of paper from the folder, Faust unfolded the contents in front of him. Inside were three neatly clipped sets of pages. The organization was quite methodical, apparently splitting the report into raw technical data, testing results, and then the actual blueprints.  
  
Some time ago, the raw data would have peaked his interest. The fuhrer thought back to his past, recalling his brief career as a scientist. Actually, his first life was spent as just that, but on his arrival on this godforsaken planet he now called home, he had shed this past life just as he had eight others. As such, a lifetime was brief, giving way in the line of pure descendants to the next, a brief spark in the chain of his legacy. And that brief life as a simple scientist aboard an emigration vessel heading through the unknown of space was over.   
  
Dismissing his thoughts as well as the blueprints, he turned to the test results. From chart to chart, he could already hear the magnificent cry of his new subjects. He held tight to the sheets of paper, sure that Gartlant would soon become unbeatable.  
  
All that remained of the three reports was the actual blueprints, the first glance Faust had ever had of this invincible war machine. For a moment, he almost felt a spark of interest as he unfurled the diagram. He would be the first to see what soon would haunt the dreams of those who defied him. Alexander, the foolish emperor from his neighbored border had already sampled the taste of defeat. Now it was time for the others.  
  
Joy. That overconfident idiot. How he had thus far been able to keep a country together, Faust had no idea. The man had no common sense, becoming involved in one scandal after another, putting his name at the greatest risk, and then leaving his lackeys to mop up after him. If he had any credibility, Faust could have easily turned the New Texans against their own president. Disgustingly enough, they would place more trust in that fat idiot than himself. The fools would learn soon enough how inadequate he was when his gaze finally focused on that country.  
  
In actuality, Faust had no doubt that any of them would fall. His army was on the rise to power, and none would stand in his way. None that was, except Ieyasu. Ieyasu Tokugawa, the strong-minded ruler of Japoness, who had openly objected to his taking of Peterburg from Alexander. Ieyasu, whose army had almost reached the level of his own.  
  
Until now. Faust gloated over this final design. With this project in motion, not even Ieyasu would be able to stand up to Gartlant's supremacy. With this haunting visage of... of...  
  
Faust stood up violently, inadvertently knocking his table in the process. One of the folders he hadn't yet attended to jumped over the side, pages scattering around the room. Turning to the wall, Faust fumbled around in the dark until he found the communications terminal he was looking for. "Tiger!" he bellowed.  
  
Immediately, the voice of his loyal saber doll resounded through the terminal. "Lord Faust! At your service!"  
  
Faust could feel his face becoming hot with rage. He inwardly reminded himself to not over exhaust himself over this matter. "Summon Hess! Now!" he ordered, in a tone only slightly more quiet than before.  
  
"Sir!" she returned.  
  
Flipping off the comm, he slightly strode back to the table, taking another look at the design, and hoping it was just a misunderstanding.  
  
"My Lord," a grave voice came from the shadowy entranceway.  
  
It was Hess, creeping in from nowhere, as always. He was the biggest mystery of all, having been around longer than any of Faust's other subordinates. Eyes hidden beneath those ominous shining glasses of his, balding head, and a facial expression that never varied. The doctor was an absolute genius, but an antisocial. Never in the public eye, it was suitable for Faust to whisk him away to the darkest corners of the country. Still, whenever he called him back, Hess would be there without a moment's notice, as if he was always hiding in the shadows nearby, watching Faust's every motion.  
  
"Hess," he looked to the other with a serious face, motioning for him to sit at the far end of the table. He had found it a wasted effort to get angry at Hess, since the doctor always answered with that calm, distant, smiling look regardless of what he had to say. "About your last report."  
  
"My Lord," he began, refusing the offered seat. "You do not hold many meetings here. I believe something is to your disliking. Still, everything I have thus far built have been to your specifications."  
  
Faust's gaze faltered momentarily at the other's quick address. Hess showed no fear. Ever. The Lord of Gartlant began to wonder if the other even valued his own life. Flattening the blueprints on the table, he rotated them to face Hess. "What the hell is this?"  
  
Hess looked down at the Krabbensteiff design, the large combat machine modeled after a crab. Its main cargo hold was large enough to hold a full legion of saber marionettes, and the encompassing shell employed his plasma absorption device, powering the entire spindly legs beneath. "It's the Krabbensteiff," he gave the obvious reply.  
  
"As it says," Faust agreed reluctantly. His fists then came down hard on the table, his temper flaring. "Why the hell did you make a crab of all things?! This design was to be the height of our technology! Our crowning achievement! The thing that was to strike fear into our enemies hearts! How is tell stupid looking crab going to do that? Tell me how, Hess!"  
  
"I haven't any idea," Hess returned.  
  
Faust straightened his posture, a long strand of his blonde hair wisping over his eyes as he closed them. "Then why did you build it that way?"  
  
"The actual frame was not designed by me," Hess' voice grated. "I believe Goddel was responsible for it."  
  
"Very well, you are dismissed in order to send him to me."  
Faust felt his right eyebrow twitch involuntary. Goddel came up with it? That sure made a lot more sense than Hess. After all, he couldn't picture the dark doctor piecing together anything looking even remotely organic. At times he even felt the other might have just been a machine this whole time.  
  
Goddel on the other hand, was a blithering idiot. If Faust had to wager, he would say he had a little too much Joy in his genes. The disrespectful general was useful on the battlefield, but behind his own lines he tried his best to pull as many strings as he had access to. He was waiting for the right chance to assume command.  
  
On the flip side, this did work in Faust's favor, allowing the fuhrer to easily keep the man in check. Goddel was somewhat paranoid of being found out, and as such, acted more loyally than any of Faust's true soldiers whenever the opportunity presented itself. In that respect, the leader of Gartlant almost wished that more of his troops were trying to backstab him.  
  
"Faust, my benevolent leader!"  
  
Then again, maybe he was better off the way things were.  
  
Goddel wasted no time in setting himself down at the seat directly across from Faust. He was wearing his usual uniform, but had attached a frivolous cape to its back. It lacked taste, but it somehow suited the man, accenting the grandfather clock of a face he had. Faust could see him almost casually throwing his feet up on the table, the general catching himself at the last moment, remembering of whose table he sat.  
  
"Goddel," Faust said evenly. "I understand Hess had you help out with the design of Project AA516."  
  
Goddel absentmindedly straightened end end of his mustache. As his finger let go, it curled back into place. "Project AA516, eh? I can say I personally enjoyed serving you, even if meant working with someone like Hess."  
  
"I'm sure you did," Faust suppressed his rising annoyance. He slid the blueprints closer to him. "And I'm equally sure you have a good reason for this."  
  
Goddel leaned forward to get a better look. "Oh! The Krabbensteiff project! I can assure you it was fully my idea!"  
  
"Oh?" Faust humored him before letting out the volcano of rage. "Explain it then, Goddel! Explain this mockery of the Gartlant army! How can we march to the Japoness border with a stupid looking crab leading the way?! It's against everything we stand for!"  
  
The general swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, suddenly realizing his leader was against the idea - not for it. "As I thought, my lord. When Hess approached me for the symbol of our terror I knew it was far too large a task to simply take upon it myself."  
  
He hands fumbled for the page, the man taking sudden interest in the design as if he hadn't seen it until now. He probably hadn't. "I therefore had Commander Gaitsuun take care of it."  
  
"Are you sure?" Faust challenged him, tired of the rat changing his course through a maze of lies.  
  
Goddel attempted to gain his posture now, to look more respectful in his leader's eyes. "My lord, Gaitsuun is your best officer by far, and I had no idea he would have gone so far as to try and run this farce by you. I honestly expected more from him. On your word, I can have him discharged from service."  
  
"Silence," Faust barked, annoyed at the others sudden take charge efforts. "I will decide myself who gets discharged. If you truthfully had nothing to do with this, get out of my face. And bring Gaitsuun to me."  
  
"My Lord!" he mustered as he stood and gave a badly performed bow before leaving.  
  
Gaitsuun was the last name Faust would have expected to hear linked with the Karbbensteiff proposal. The top standing man from the Gartlant army recruits, the young man had showed great promise even with no prior experience. Gaitsuun's kind was rare, and every now and then Faust toyed with the notion of deriving pure clones from such a perfect specimen. A perfect army. One that would click the heels of their boots together in perfect unison at his approach, ready and willing to sacrifice their lives for their esteemed leader and nation.  
  
The commander's approach was far more respectful than either Hess or Goddel could muster, the boy waiting outside the doorway until Faust admitted him. Then snapping to attention in silence, he hailed him.  
  
"At ease, commander," Faust said, his tone mellow as ever it had been that day.  
  
Gaitsuun relaxed slightly.  
  
"Take a moment to go over the blueprints here on the table, Gaitsuun. I want your abject opinion."  
  
The soldier did so, momentarily lifting the pages and laying them back in their exact previous position before standing back in his statue pose. "Sir, this is the new plasma using weapon that has been under development recently. The final design seems to have taken on the likeness of a water-dwelling crab."  
  
"Yes," Faust interrupted. "And that is what I have linked my current headache to. This abomination is nowhere near what Gartlant needs. Look at the flawed workings! The entire frame looks ready to collapse if but one of those supporting legs were to break apart!"  
  
"Precisely why I rejected the idea, sir," Gaitsuun agreed, causing Faust's expression to become questionable. "Additionally, I hardly find a crab an adequate representation of our strong nation. We deserve a more fitting symbol to fight with."  
  
Despite his best efforts Faust couldn't detect even the hint of a lie in the commander's speech, unlike the boorish Goddel. This obvious truth, prompted the next logical question. "Who ultimately decided on the design, then?"  
  
Gaitsuun paused briefly. "The decision, I had felt, was far too great for me to make. Therefore, when General Goddel came to me, I had my whole division submit ideas of their choosing, and then those were voted on."  
  
"That still doesn't directly answer my question, commander."  
  
Gaitsuun rewound the last sentence in his head. "Forgive me, sir. I believe the Krabbensteiff idea was the submission of Private Mullins, one of my new transfers."  
  
The name didn't ring a bell. "Is this Mullins currently on assignment?"  
  
"No sir, he's been on leave. Should I send for him?"  
  
Faust brushed his brow, letting out a sigh. This matter had dragged on long enough. "That won't be necessary. Dismissed."  
  
The young man clicked his heels together, turned 180 degrees, then left.  
  
And Faust was alone again in the dark. Alone with the accursed report of the war machine that was supposed to be his greatest creation but now was his most hated. His resolve was short, as was his temper, and he was tired of his officers, reliable or not, tossing the responsibility from one to the next. It was time, in his opinion, to scratch this memory from the chalkboard of his mind and start anew.  
  
"Tiger," he voiced into the comm again. "I charge you to find one Private Mullins and have him executed for reason against his country."  
  
Faust folded his cape behind him, wringing his hands. It was treason to produce such a farce as the Krabbensteiff was. The ruler turned to the blueprints again, taking in the deep curves winding along its frame. He could picture the beast tearing into the ground, each of its six appendages ripping through Terra's crust as it staggered along in a drunken-like state. It was a bulbous, laughable monster, its eyes hiding in the darkness, two glowing embers of amber.  
  
Faust cleared his throat looking down again at it. He thought again of those otherworldly eyes, the crashing feet, and the impervious shell. He defocused his eyes and looked again, suddenly realizing the design wasn't as bad as he had thought. The Krabbensteiff was a little mysterious, even dangerous if hovering over in its entire dominating stance. It had the capability to wage his war.  
  
Backing up slightly, he flipped the comm again, lost in thought. "Tiger, retract that last order."  
  
Staring deep into the design, he did not to hear her reply. "But Faust-Sama, that can't be done! He's already been terminated!"  
  
"Ah, Krabbensteiff," he breathed. "Together we will bring a new era to this world."  
  
Piecing the file together again, Faust felt a bit of self-satisfaction setting in. He set it aside and grabbed the next, ready to finish these orders of business.  
  
He hadn't expected to receive the next one so soon. The Zauberburg project was not due for at least another month. Hess had been prompt once again. Pulling the usual three sets from it, he looked to the blueprints for its framework-  
  
-and slumped down on his chair.  
  
"What the hell is this?!" he screamed to the empty room. "We're Gartlant, not Disneylant! Why does the Zauberburg have mouse ears?!"  
  
Faust keyed the comm, having Tiger fetch Hess again. It was going to be a long night indeed. 


End file.
